


Tower Hill

by foxybadger42



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxybadger42/pseuds/foxybadger42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim leaves for the tower, but Sebastian will try once more to stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tower Hill

**Author's Note:**

> Story is mine. James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran belong to Sir Conan Doyle. BBC Sherlock to the BBC. No profit made. Just for fun.

‘Jim! Wait!’

The criminal rolled his eyes and turned, not surprised to see his second-in-command jog towards him.

‘I told you to be up on that roof,’ Moriarty groaned and nodded at a building in the distance, the one with a perfect view of the entrance. For fuck’s sake, if the man wasn’t so good at his job, Jim would have fired him for his insubordination years ago. Even though the man disobeyed him more than obeyed him, Sebastian Moran was loyal. Like a dog that would follow you anywhere but still sometimes run off to chase a squirrel while you shouted at it to come back.

But today was too important to cock up.

‘Get out of here, Moran,’ Jim said, briefly looked around to check up on the security guard that had just rounded the corner. ‘Or I’ll have you arrested as well.’

‘Shut up,’ the tall man hissed at him through clenched teeth and grabbed him by his wrist. ‘And come with me!’

Jim opened his mouth, ready to call the security guard when Sebastian pulled him into the alleyway to his right, causing him to yelp with surprise, instead of call for help. Of course, it would have drawn unwanted attention to them, but Moran had to know from time-to-time that Moriarty never bluffed when he meant it. Sebastian had to know his place.

He cursed the man for being taller and stronger than him and had no other choice but to follow him into the narrow alley. It wasn’t until they reached a set of dumpsters when Jim lost his patience.  
‘Moran, let go. Right now.’

But Moran suddenly spun around, grabbed him by his shoulder and pushed him against the far end of the dumpster, the two men disappearing out of sight of the security guard. The clang of Jim’s back hitting the dumpster echoed off the buildings but as the guard passed, he didn’t look down the alleyway once. 

Jim had groaned weakly when he had hit the dumpster, gritting his teeth and looking up at his sniper, utter disgust on his face.

‘Moran, I—,’ he started, leaning forwards far enough so their noses almost touched. He was about to utter another threat when Sebastian pushed him back, this time pinning him against the dumpster, his knee pushing painfully into Jim’s thigh. One of the man’s hands grabbed him by his lapel of his crème-coloured jacket; his left hand. Jim closed his eyes, fearing that his left, his dominant hand, would soon hit him in the face. Sebastian had never hit him in order to hurt him, (unless they had been playing some erotic game), but Jim’s past, one of bullying and physical violence had taught him to recognize signs of oncoming pain. He had been grabbed by his clothes too often when he was a kid, followed by a hand slapping his face. But Moran, his Moran, had never done that to him.

And neither did he now and when Jim opened his eyes he found Sebastian pointing a finger at his face.

‘Listen to me – no LISTEN!’ Moran shouted as Jim had opened his mouth to argue. He closed his mouth again, eyes wide with surprise as he scrutinised Moran’s face. His eyes were red and sweat was dripping down from his forehead. Had he been running? The man was panting slightly and his entire body seemed to tremble. The hand pointed at his face certainly did. He chuckled nervously, obviously not pleased that a man with such steady aim had suddenly developed the signs of young-onset Parkinson’s disease.

‘If you do this – if you go into that building, there will be no chance to get out.’

‘I—,’ Jim had sighed and rolled his eyes but Moran had given him an extra push.

‘If you do this – there will be no change of plans. All the other organisations will want to know how you did it – and none of them will stop until they know how you broke unto that place,’ he said and jerked his head vaguely into the direction of the Tower.  
‘That’s the point, Seba—

‘If you do this – you will set this fucking game of yours in motion, and you will not stop until you and Holmes are dead!’ he spat the last word, emphasising it by pushing Jim back again. ‘There will be no way out of this.’

‘Yes, alright!’ Jim exclaimed and slapped Sebastian’s hand away, getting sick of being smashed into the disgusting dumpster all the time. But Moran didn’t back off, but stayed towering over him, like a tiger ready to strike down on its prey. ‘It’s the plan! We stick to the plan!’

‘And when exactly did you think up this plan?’ Moran hissed down at him. ‘Before or after you started to fuck me?’

Moriarty’s thin eyebrows raised and his mouth dropped open. He had expected to have a clever remark, but he didn’t. Oh, the plan had been there for a while, but not before he had started to take Sebastian into his bed.

‘Why does it matter?’ Jim asked, closing his eyes briefly and shaking his head, obviously pretending not to understand what Moran was after. But he knew. Oh, he knew. If Moran only knew he did.

‘Because I need to know if you had thought about me once, and what this would mean to me?’

Jim guffawed and rolled his eyes. Yes. The conversation had taken the direction he had thought it would. This had been the reason why he had wanted Moran standing in the distance; to avoid this conversation. Jim wasn’t going to change his mind; he rarely did. But if there was someone who could make him doubt himself, for even a split second, it would be Moran.

And that couldn’t happen right now. He had to stick to the plan!

‘After this is done you’ll just buy yourself a whore, fall in love with her and I will be forgotten,’ he sighed, again shaking his head, annoyed that his conversation had to take place. If had he known Moran would turn out to be such a sentimental git, he would never have started to fuck him. He had hoped the ex-marine wouldn’t be that boring; he had though the army and his time wandering the east had made him a tough man. But in the end, Moran was a softy and Jim was disappointed.

Because in the end, Moran had fallen in love with him and that annoyed Jim. Things would have been a lot easier if the man had just been an easy fuck.  
But by now, the sniper meant more to him as well.

So like Moran, Moriarty had turned into this soft mushy bastard and he hated every second of it. Moran didn’t know, and couldn’t know. The man had to think he was alone with this and that Jim didn’t care about his feelings getting hurt.

But Jim did care of course. More than he should. More than he had never done. Moran was going to get hurt, and it did more to Jim than the idea of leaving him forever. For Jim, it would be easy. He would die, and it would over. He wouldn’t feel the loss. But Sebastian would. The poor bastard.

Sebastian scoffed, obviously not as amused as Jim seemed to be about this solution. Moran liked his wenches but would never fall for them as he had for Jim. Complicated arse.  
‘I won’t,’ Moran hissed, confirming Jim’s theory. ‘If you think it’s that easy – to move on when I could have stopped you—‘

‘You can’t stop me, Sebastian,’ Jim interrupted, shaking his head and the corner of his lips curling, his mouth widening into that reptilian smile of his. ‘No one can,’ he leaned forward, their noses almost touching again. ‘Not even you.’

‘Jim, for God’s sake, please – listen to me!’ the colonel sighed and briefly closed his eyes, ready to try another approach to have Jim change his mind. He was going to beg now, and Jim’s lip twitched, forced to hide his amusement at the idea of the man begging him outside the bedroom.  
‘I’m begging you!’

And there it was. Jim bared his teeth, his smile almost depicturing arousal. He loved it when people begged him but unlike now, he had them at their mercy; their lives would be at stake or they would be so desperate for his help.

But now it was personal, and he knew he shouldn’t smile like this. But God, did he love it when Sebastian begged him. To stop. To be rougher. To fuck him harder. To suck him off. But this was different. This was sentiment.

He closed his mouth and shook his head.

‘No,’ was his reply. ‘Give it up, Moran. Because I will not stop. Ever. Not until my heart stops beating,’ he hissed the last word into the man’s face. Moran, deeply shocked by this, pulled backall anger had suddenly left his eyes and they flashed over Jim’s face as if trying to detect a hint of emotion. But apart from mild amusement and anger, Jim wasn’t showing any. Not even Moran had ever seen through his mask.

No one ever gets to me. And no one ever will.

Not even Sebastian Moran, the only person in his life he had ever cared about.

But to his great surprise, Moran’s glare returned and the man leaned in again, now grabbing Jim’s jacket with his other hand as well. The man shook his head.  
‘I will not give up. I will never. I will fight or you and try to convince you until the very last day you draw breath.’

Jim stared at his sniper for a moment before bursting out with laughter. It had sounded so beautiful. So corny. Had he practiced that? It could have come straight from a movie.  
‘Honestly, Sebastian!’ Jim chuckled but couldn’t continue his words as the man leaned closer and smashed his lips against his own. Jim muffled out a protest but gave up, not going to deny the last opportunity to kiss the other. Who knew how long he was going to be stuck in prison until this was all over? He might as well use Sebastian’s emotions to enjoy a last good kiss. 

He was a bit surprised by the way Sebastian kissed him. It wasn’t rough and needy as it usually was. It was slow and deep, as if for once the sniper didn’t have any intentions to hurt him. It was – normal. Warm. Even —- enjoyable.

Jim wanted to stop; pull his head away and leave now but Sebastian’s hands went from his jacket to his face, holding his head in place as he continued to kiss him. Jim bit the other’s lip, trying to let him know to stop but he never did.

He had to leave. He had to leave now. Before he would regret it. Before he would change the plan.

He placed his hand against Sebastian’s shoulder and pushed. But the soldier didn’t move an inch. Damn his weight and strength! Jim had never cared about his posture, but with Moran he had always wished to be a bit more, just so he could control the other man when words wouldn’t be enough.

He would just have to hold on; keep repeating the plan inside his head and wait until Moran would stop. Get into the Tower. Show them what I can do. Get released. Contact other firms. Get to Sherlock. End Sherlock.

End my own life.

He huffed into the kiss. Moran had done it. He had made him doubt. But the man couldn’t know this of course.The man could never know that he cared.

His hands flew to Moran’s face, holding him the same way the man did to him. And he returned the kiss. Maybe it would stop him.

And after a few seconds he was able to pull his head back, and he looked directly into those blue eyes.

‘Seb – stop it. Please – I have to go.’

Moran obeyed. He could see him swallow and Jim felt his thumb drag over his cheekbone. He smiled at his second-in-command. Good dog. He lowered his hands, but Jim’s were still on Moran’s jaw line. He touched the sniper’s lip gently with his thumb, brought his face closer again and kissed him one last time before he slipped from the man’s blockade and left the alleyway, straightening his jacket. He didn’t look back, afraid of what would happen if he did, and he mixed among the other tourists, taking a pack of gum from his pocket and slipping a piece between his lips.

Sebastian was left in the alleyway, but as soon as Jim had entered the Tower he had left as well, stalking between buildings before he found the backdoor of the building he had picked as his sniper’s nest. When he reached the top he took his phone out and cancelled the table he had reserved at the Ritz.


End file.
